


just let it in

by obscure_black_clouds



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Dark, Gen, Horror, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 13:06:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9441872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obscure_black_clouds/pseuds/obscure_black_clouds
Summary: So okay, here comes an explanatory part, cause when I go into symbolism I go all the way. It’s not really necessary to read it, if you don’t want to.The entire place- well, it’s obviously Credence’s mind and consciousness, that’s clear.Doors- are the ways into every corner of his soul, all different, because he, like everyone, can be very different and has wide rage of opportunities and features. Some of them are small, responsible for small habits, the others are big - they determine his opinions and character. Some are old and loose, they are transmitted with the blood as a heritage, and others, new ones, the ones no one opens - are his own features. All of them are closed, because he does not allow himself to become what must be.Broken dirty window- he tries to look outside, but can’t because he is constantly waiting for a pain, and sees the world through the prism of violence. The hole, however, is the consequence of Tina’s actions, she broke his stereotypical point of view. However, looking at the world under different light isn’t going to be easy at all, that why he accidentally cuts himself.Great hall- represents his heart. They are huge, but (for now) empty, because he does not let anyone get too close, for fear that they will destroy him. Just like Graves came in, breaking windows and damaging the chandelier (a fragile thing, just like Credence is). Hall is the closest room to the exit, because that despite the fear, Credence is still a little naive and is able to trust others (though sometimes he doesn’t need to).Vision- Credence is afraid, yet captivated with what he could become. That’s why he sees a Dark king, powerful and just, but still dark.Mansion- Credence’s identity, his character. It’s strange old mansion that looks like it’s built of different pieces. Old because magic flows in his veins, he is not a muggleborn, He comes from the family of wizards, where magic passed down from generation to generation. At the same time it seems like its assembled from pieces, because all around were trying to change Credence, eradicate him from himself.Garden- is his soul. It’s fading because of the betrayal, and the sky is overcast because Credence hides from everyone. Garden slowly transforms into a forest, because Credence doesn’t know himself that good. It is a mystery even for him.Music- is his nature, mostly the  embodiment of Obscurus, except the violin, which makes its way through the darkness of the organ. Violin is Credence, still sad, but bright.Cemetery in the forest- is the memorial for all those who passed and who Credence lost. Obscurus puts flowers on the grave of his (their) real mother, because despite the vision and everything else, they are part of whole.Moths- are the memories and dreams. Some of them used to be butterflies once, but now they masked themselves under the dust, so nobody hurts them.Obscurus- is, obviously, Credence’s twin, his magic. He is confident and, sometimes, even cruel, but he is nothing without Credence. He is the only one who takes care of the garden and moths because Credence is too scared to come and or let someone to help him. Obscurus hides in the depths of the forest and jealously protects a small cemetery, because it is, again, where his mother is buried. However, he doesn’t like when someone break into the house either. For example, Graves broke into the room and ruined chandelier, so Obscurus slipped away, to give him a good lesson.The path in the forest- is a safe way. Credence doesn’t step out of it until he is asked, even in his own mind.Sun- is all the god things in the world. Kindness, compassion, support and everything else. Credence just has to accept it.





	

Wind sent chills down the boy’s spine, waking him up. He jerked, realizing that he was lying on the wooden dusty floor in a dark unfamiliar corridor. How did he end up here? Credence could’ve sworn that he went to bed in Goldsteins’ apartment, not in this old house, that seemed more like a mansion. He hesitantly stood up, looking around, his heart pounding in his chest like crazy.

The corridor seemed abandoned, as if no one lived in this house for decades, ages even. A subtle light crept into the building through a dirty window. The glass was broken, sharp shards littered the floor around. Maybe that window was a source of the wind that woke Credence up. The boy stepped forward, floor creaking under his foot. The sound was too loud for this forsaken place and it made Credence flinch. He continued moving, carefully watching around if somebody else was there. However the place was empty, just a long dark corridor with a dozen on doors. At first he thought they all were the same, but know, when Credence came closer he saw that, in fact, the difference was immense. Every single door differed from previous one, most of them seemed like they didn’t even belonged here. Some were small, and Credence doubted that even a cat could fit in there, some were big, huge even, reaching the ceiling. Others were old, speckled with cracks and scratches, sometimes even missing some parts of the material they were made of. There were couple of newer ones, sleek and neat, as if no one ever opened them. Some were dull and dark, some – covered in colorful paint. However there were something common in all of them.

Firstly, all of them, just like the whole corridor, they were covered in thick layer of dust. Credence could see spider webs here and there, darkness curled in the corners. Small speckles of dust were slowly moving in the subtle rays of light, when the boy came closer to the window.

Secondly, all of them were closed. Not even a single one of them opened when he tried to pull the handle. They were creaking and moving slightly, but never opened.

Credence moved to the window, shards cracking under his shoes, and touched the glass. He hoped to look outside, wipe away the dirt and dust, but he only smeared the grime over his fingers. He tried to peek out of the hole, but as soon as he touched the edges, he flinched back, gasping of sharp pain. Credence stared at his fingers, now covered in blood that seemed surprisingly vibrant in comparison to the house, or the world itself. The light – moonlight, he thought – was playing now with drips of blood on the glass. Credence stared and it for a second, and suddenly noticed another corridor in the corner of his eyes. He turned to the left, seeing the stairs, which led both up and down. Boy moved toward them, cradling his hand close to his chest. He could still feel his heart pounding, but that strange fear was mixed with curiosity and sudden confidence.

His every step was followed by a creaking sound of the stairway. As everything else in this house, it was covered with dust and shadows, which followed him carefully. Credence didn’t know which floor he was at, because every time he tried to count he would lose it as soon as his eyes moved from one step to another. For a second Credence thought, that the house himself was guiding him, preventing boy from remembering the way. However, it seemed that his journey ended soon enough. Credence stepped into the main hall and froze in awe.

The room was vast, almost twice as big as the church Credence remembered so well. The hall was still filled with darkness, lit only with a moonlight, which crept through the stained-glass doors. It seemed like a palace, an old forsaken residence of the forgotten kings. There weren’t any gold, though, just a rich wood and marble on the floor. A crystal chandelier was dangerously leaned to the side, still connected to the ceiling. Credence could easily imagine hundreds of people in here, women in long gorgeous dresses and men in suits dancing to the music.

He could see an owner of this house, a dark king, dressed in black and gold with a heavy crown on his head, whose name, once shouted, became a mere whisper. He could see a queen, gentle and beautiful, but already touched by darkness, because she loved him so dear and well, that she took his hand, and heart ,and kingdom, blinding herself to his true nature.

Credence shook his head, shaking himself free from the vision. The king’s face was too familiar, to the extent where Credence gasped, fear flowing through his veins. He saw that face, he knew those eyes. A sharp jawline, high cheekbones and a slightest bit crooked nose seemed almost cut out of the stone. Jet-black hair seemed untamed, resting on his shoulders, making his skin appear white, lifeless even. His plump lips curved into victorious smirk before he burst into laugh, cold and sharp as shards of glass, making Credence shiver. And the eyes…

It was his eyes.

Credence rushed to the door, trying to escape the a sinister picture and the maniacal laugh. He rapidly opened the door and froze again, his eyes drowning in panic. Desolation. There were nothing around, just a vast empty space, except for the couple of dead trees. His breath hitched, while he was frantically looking around. The sky was gray and hazy, covered in thick clouds, which prevented any light from touching the land. Credence turned around, staring at the mansion. He was relatively right, it appeared more like an old castle, though again, just like those doors in a corridors it seemed like it was made from different buildings, combined in one.

Suddenly, he heard a quiet music coming from the garden. Credence never heard anything like this before. It was quiet, almost inaudible and easily killed by creaking trees. He went forward as in a dream, moving deeper into the garden, passing a metal gates covered in a dry ivy. Perhaps, it was his movements that scared couple of moths, so they fluttered into the sky. One of them landed onto Credence’s sleeve, making him stop. He never seen a creature lake that before. A moth was huge, not compared to the ones that lived in wardrobes. Its dark, pale wings, sprinkled with white dots mirroring the diamonds, were trembling in unison with the wind. Credence was fascinated staring at the moth. He raised his hand to touch it, but at the same time, the music came back, louder and a tiny bit faster, scaring it away.

Music was slow, like a ritual song, a lament without words, jut sounds and the wind. It filled everything, and now every other sound was becoming a part of this sinister melody. Whispers of the wind, rustle of moths’ wings and leaves beneath Credence’s feet, even his own breath merged with the otherworldly music. It seemed to erase everything, entire world and the memories of other world, feeding the air, feeling like a light hand of the back, leading him forward, deeper into the woods. It wasn’t a garden anymore, Credence could feel it, he was sure, that if he’d turn around he wouldn’t have seen the mansion anymore. However, he couldn’t look back, his eyes were glued to the path in front of him.

And the music went on, bursting into a trill, falling and lifting again and again. Credence could hear the cryptic organ playing in the distance luring him into the thicket. It sounded deep and slow, as if the music was more ancient than a time itself. Sometimes, however, a crystal trill of a violin was breaking through this eerie veil, as if light still was fighting against the dark, glimmering through shadows. Nevertheless, it was still wailful and lacrimal, perhaps even the music knew, that with every victory of the light it’s the dark that wins.

It felt like the edge of the earth, air thick like butter, time slowed down and faded away. Here everything was conditional, even the edge of the earth itself. Land was ugly and dead, soaked with blood or tears, or both. This place froze in time, in the middle of twilight, when the day is done and the night is never going to come.

Credence was still walking, breathing heavily, as if he was running out of oxygen. The forest didn’t seem to thin out, even though he could see peculiar stones here and there. His heart sunk when he realized what they were. Tombstones. His eyes widen and he almost fell to the ground tripping over tree root.

_“It seemed to like you,”_ soft velvet voice interrupted the music, merging into it, as if it was supposed to. _“The moth.”_

Credence backed away, staring at the figure in front of him. It was certainly a man, tall and thin, dressed in all black. His clothes seemed at the same time grungy and rich, which seemed to be almost incongruous. He wore a hood, just another layer of cloth covering his head. He sniffed, turning his head slightly it a wolf-like manner.

_“You’re bleeding,”_ his voice was calm and steady, much deeper than Credence’s, but still a bit rusty. The boy glanced to his hand, blood dried a long time ago.

_“W-where a-am I?”_ Credence wheezed, staring at stranger’s back, as he crouched laying a bunch of dried roses to the grave. His thin pale fingers were covered with scars. Just like mine, Credence thought, examining his hands. However, the black sleeves hid stranger’s palms and arms. He carefully touched the stone, shaking his head slightly and snorting in amusement.

_“You know where,”_ he chuckled, watching a moth, sitting on his fingers.

_“I-I d-don’t,”_ Credence started panicking, not being able to control his own voice anymore. _“Who are you?”_ his voice wobbly and wheezy.

_“You know who I am, Credence. Come on, dearie, it’s easy,”_ he chucked again, turning around to face Credence, his head low, covered with hood, as if it was too early to see his face yet.

_“I-I-”_

_“Come on, honey,”_ he singed, raising his hands. Credence blinked, looking at the stranger. His form seemed to fade away, crumbling into smoke. Black, thick smoke was silently curling around him, making his frame blurry. Smoke. No, it couldn’t be, no-

_“Say it, dearie, we both know you very well know who I am.”_

Smoke. Credence’s eyes widen in realization. There was only one thing he could think of.

**Obscurus.**

_“Exactly, little one,”_ a man raised his head, removing the hood. Subtle light touched his pale skin, sliding over his cheekbones.

He looked exactly like Credence and at the same time completely different. His skin was much paler, and he was skinnier, if it was even possible. Dark shadows rested beneath his eyes and cheekbones. Jet-black hair was much longer, almost reaching his shoulders. Ebony and ivory. That was the only words to describe him. His eyes… His eyes were blind, covered in white translucent haze. However, there were much more emotions in those white holes than in someone’s human eyes. Rage, danger, power, force, sadness and pain, all in one. They seemed like abyss.

_“If you only could see your face right now,”_ Obscurus laughed.

_“How- W-Where are we?”_

_“Oh, come on, don’t play a fool, Credence. You know, where we are.”_

_“I don’t-”_

_“Think, Credence!”_ Obscurus exclaimed emerging right in front of the boy, staring into his face. _“Think!”_

_“Oh-”_ he backed away, trying to be as far from the Obscurus as possible. _“We-we are in-” his eyes widen _“-in my head.”__

__“Good boy,”_ Obscurus sarcastically praised. _“It’s been a long time, since you’ve last been here.”__

__“Wh-What do you mean?”_ Credence asked, realizing that his twin wasn’t’ going to hurt him. At least for now._

__“Of course I’m not going to hurt you, silly,”_ Obscurus shook his head, _“You’ve created me. I am you, and vice versa.”__

__“What did you mean, when said it’s been a long time?”_ _

__“Well, you, apparently, don’t like this place much,”_ he shrugged. _“You’ve locked the door long time ago, and threw away the key. I found it, by the way,” Obscurus reached for something under his jacket, pulling a small chain from all of those cloth layers. A small key gleamed in his hand, making Credence blink. _“You’ve locked the door and started hiding here all the things you didn’t like. Including me.”___

___“S-Sorry,”_ Credence looked away, staring at the ground._ _

___“Never mind. I wouldn’t be here otherwise, so I’m grateful. In some way. Come on,”_ Obscurus gestured and moved along the path, pulling his hood up again._ _

___“Where are we going?”_ Credence asked timidly, following him._ _

___“I don’t know. It’s your head,”_ he nonchalantly said._ _

__They were silent for a second, Credence deep into his mind, both literally and figuratively. He watched the Obscurus got off the trail, standing among the trees. He raised his hands, allowing dozens of moths to fly closer. It seemed beautiful and creepy at the same time. And sad._ _

___“What are those?”_ Credence asked, his voice merely above the whisper._ _

___“Moths?”_ Obscurus clarified, glancing at the boy, who was still standing on the path. _“Take a look.”__ _

__Credence hesitated for a minute, but then came closer, stepping onto dry grass. There they stood, two twins among the night butterflies._ _

___“I look after them, so they don’t die here. Some of them, of course fade away with time, but I care for them, so they don’t die earlier.”_ _ _

__Credence felt a moth sat on his hand, carefully climbing onto his sleeve. Suddenly, it reminded him of something. It was a rainy day, and Ma wasn’t around, she went to visit some friend of hers. It was a good day, free of punishment and abuse._ _

___“Oh, that’s a good one,”_ Obscurus smirked, cocking his head._ _

___“You remember?”_ _ _

___“Of course I do,”_ he sighed, banishing al the moths away. _“We are one.”__ _

___“Newt said that Obscurus is-”_ Credence started staring at the ground._ _

___“-a dark parasitic force that blah, blah, blah,”_ Obscurus rolled his eyes, walking past Credence and throwing up his hands. _“If I was that, I would’ve killed you, you know. To break free and stuff. However,”_ he raised his finger up, _“-however, I’m right here, looking after the house and garden.”__ _

___“But how-”_ _ _

___“You hated me. You hated me and locked me up here,”_ Obscurus gestured to the house that was now visible from behind the trees. _“Magic needs an exit. You locked the door, putting me into cage.”__ _

___“I’m sorry-”,_ Credence guiltily whispered, watching Obscurus coming closer to the house. He stood there for a second, examining the mansion, and then climbed onto a low stone fence. He sat there, watching Credence intently, his every movement somehow mirroring a wolf._ _

___“It was not your fault. Things gone nasty, I understand,”_ he shrugged. _“At first I was trying to break free, but then. Well, I stopped. The only time I gone out was the times when it was too bad. The cracks would appear and I could slip away.”__ _

___“When Ma-”_ _ _

___“Mostly. That woman was my way out. How ironic,”_ he bitterly chucked._ _

___“Newt said you will kill me, sooner or later,”_ Credence suddenly whispered. Obscurus jerked his head. He watched the boy for a second, and the sighed._ _

___“He is right. Not that I want to, though.”_ _ _

___“But- Why didn’t you-”_ _ _

___“-Kill you earlier?”_ Obscurus asked, slightly swinging his legs in the air. _“Well, you see, this place is huge. For now I have enough space here,” he shrugged. _“I don’t know that it depends on, but you’re a lucky one.”___ _

____“I'm-”_ Credence muttered, doubting his words and looking to the ground. Suddenly, he realized something. _“Where did the music go?”__ _ _

____“Music?”_ Obscurus curiously asked. _“It’s still there. You’ve just became a part of it. It’s the same with the heartbeat. As long as it’s yours, you won’t hear it. You’ve became a part of this music, Credence.”__ _ _

___Suddenly, the wind got stronger, making leaves fly through the air. Credence frantically looked around, while Obscurus quickly jumped down from the fence, grabbing Credence by the shoulders. The boy flinched, staring at his twin with wide eyes._ _ _

____“I know what you’re thinking. You still have a chance. The only thing you need to do is to let the sun in. I will go away, as soon as there will be someone- you, to look after the garden. Let the sun in. Just let it in.”_ _ _ _

___Wind gone stronger and stronger, blowing right in the face, making Credence’s eyes watering, with what all around gone hazy and blurry. He tried to see something, but there was only darkness. He gasped for air and woke up on the bed in Goldsteins’s apartment. It took him a second to realize what happened. Credence almost jumped when he heard a sleepy voice._ _ _

____“Credence, are you all right?”_ _ _ _

___It was Queenie, standing in the doorway, looking at him with worry._ _ _

____“Um-”_ he swallowed, _“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine. S-Sorry.”_ She looked at him for a second more, while he lay back down, covering himself with a blanket, and then left, whispering a quiet “goodnight”. Credence was staring into the darkness of the room for a few minutes, before he felt sleepy again. He could have sworn that in a moment before he fell asleep he heard a familiar voice accompanied with a quiet violin trill._ _ _

_____ _

_“Just let it in.”_

**Author's Note:**

> So okay, here comes an explanatory part, cause when I go into symbolism I go all the way. It’s not really necessary to read it, if you don’t want to.
> 
> **The entire place** \- well, it’s obviously Credence’s mind and consciousness, that’s clear.
> 
> **Doors** \- are the ways into every corner of his soul, all different, because he, like everyone, can be very different and has wide rage of opportunities and features. Some of them are small, responsible for small habits, the others are big - they determine his opinions and character. Some are old and loose, they are transmitted with the blood as a heritage, and others, new ones, the ones no one opens - are his own features. All of them are closed, because he does not allow himself to become what must be.
> 
> **Broken dirty window** \- he tries to look outside, but can’t because he is constantly waiting for a pain, and sees the world through the prism of violence. The hole, however, is the consequence of Tina’s actions, she broke his stereotypical point of view. However, looking at the world under different light isn’t going to be easy at all, that why he accidentally cuts himself.
> 
> **Great hall** \- represents his heart. They are huge, but (for now) empty, because he does not let anyone get too close, for fear that they will destroy him. Just like Graves came in, breaking windows and damaging the chandelier (a fragile thing, just like Credence is). Hall is the closest room to the exit, because that despite the fear, Credence is still a little naive and is able to trust others (though sometimes he doesn’t need to).
> 
> **Vision** \- Credence is afraid, yet captivated with what he could become. That’s why he sees a Dark king, powerful and just, but still dark.
> 
> **Mansion** \- Credence’s identity, his character. It’s strange old mansion that looks like it’s built of different pieces. Old because magic flows in his veins, he is not a muggleborn, He comes from the family of wizards, where magic passed down from generation to generation. At the same time it seems like its assembled from pieces, because all around were trying to change Credence, eradicate him from himself.
> 
> **Garden** \- is his soul. It’s fading because of the betrayal, and the sky is overcast because Credence hides from everyone. Garden slowly transforms into a forest, because Credence doesn’t know himself that good. It is a mystery even for him.
> 
> **Music** \- is his nature, mostly the embodiment of Obscurus, except the violin, which makes its way through the darkness of the organ. Violin is Credence, still sad, but bright.
> 
> **Cemetery in the forest** \- is the memorial for all those who passed and who Credence lost. Obscurus puts flowers on the grave of his (their) real mother, because despite the vision and everything else, they are part of whole.
> 
> **Moths** \- are the memories and dreams. Some of them used to be butterflies once, but now they masked themselves under the dust, so nobody hurts them.
> 
> **Obscurus** \- is, obviously, Credence’s twin, his magic. He is confident and, sometimes, even cruel, but he is nothing without Credence. He is the only one who takes care of the garden and moths because Credence is too scared to come and or let someone to help him. Obscurus hides in the depths of the forest and jealously protects a small cemetery, because it is, again, where his mother is buried. However, he doesn’t like when someone break into the house either. For example, Graves broke into the room and ruined chandelier, so Obscurus slipped away, to give him a good lesson.
> 
> **The path in the forest** \- is a safe way. Credence doesn’t step out of it until he is asked, even in his own mind.
> 
> **Sun** \- is all the god things in the world. Kindness, compassion, support and everything else. Credence just has to accept it.


End file.
